


Adam and Lilith

by MaladyPond



Series: Heart of Deluge [1]
Category: Highlander: The Series
Genre: Minor Character Death, Original Character(s), Sparring, Stalking, Swordfighting, Swordplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-18
Updated: 2020-01-22
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:09:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 10,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22305460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaladyPond/pseuds/MaladyPond
Summary: An old friend of Adam's has come into town. But why is she here? Duncan, Joe, and Richie are all intrigued by her, but for different reasons. As Adam can tell you, it's never wise to make presumptions where Lilith is concerned. (Set between Chivalry and Timeless)
Series: Heart of Deluge [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1610425
Kudos: 5





	1. Setting the Bar

Location: Seacouver, Joe's bar on a day the bar is closed, mid-December 1995

Adam Pierson was in the middle of a bawdy story as he poured another round of beers. Joe Dawson strummed his guitar. Richie Ryan practised his pool shots. Duncan MacLeod was sitting, taking in the sounds around him.

Adam was just getting to the best part. "So I say to the guy, Hey, it's not _my_ fault your wife's -"

Joe really wanted to hear how it ended, but he knew he would have to wait for it when he saw the other three tense up. Richie eased towards the table where Duncan, and their swords, were.

Another Immortal was coming.

They noticed that Adam, known to only a few as Methos, the mythical oldest Immortal, seemed to be searching the air, as though he could discern who this other Immortal was that was approaching.

Apparently, he could, for he grinned ever so briefly before bounding to the door and opening it.

"Adam?" Duncan wasn't sure what was happening, but there was something different about this Buzz.

Adam simply held up a hand, motioning for them to stay back.

Cautiously, he opened the door and found a petite young woman in dark clothes and purple streaks in her hair. He'd been right.

There, in the doorway, stood a woman he'd known longer than either of them cared to admit. She was small in stature, with hair like the night sky. She had purple streaks running through it now, he noticed, and blood-red lipstick. _So she's rocking the Gothic princess look now? I'll play along._

She stunned him by speaking his first language, older than any surviving writing and calling him by the name his family had called him so long ago.

He replied in kind, but they kept their voices low so the others would not hear and ask questions they were not ready to answer.

"It's been a long time, I know," she admitted in the old tongue.

"Yes, he replied. "Nearly a century! How have you been? You look . . . different."

Her blood-red lips curved up into a smile. "So do you. No hug for an old friend?"

As they held each other in a tight embrace, he whispered that he was calling himself Adam Pierson now. She admitted that she was using the name Lilith March but wouldn't tell him why she was in town when he asked. She seemed a bit troubled, yet he'd known her long enough to know that she would say what she needed to say when she was ready.

Arm in arm, they strolled over to the table where the others had congregated.

"Lilith, this is Joe Dawson, the owner of this fine establishment. Duncan MacLeod, originally from Scotland. And our young friend with his jaw on the floor is Richie Ryan. Everyone, this is Lilith March, an old friend of mine."

As Adam made the introductions, she smiled and warmly shook each man's hands in turn.

Richie, however, seemed unable to let go of her hand. He'd never been so fascinated. Raven hair with deep purple highlights, dark soulful eyes rimmed with shimmery black eyeshadow, she looked like a modern Gothic goddess. And those clothes! Layers of black that hugged her curves in all the right places and a pair of high-heeled boots with silver buckles.

Duncan almost felt like he was watching history repeat itself. Centuries ago, he and Hugh Fitzcairn had courted the lovely Angelina. They'd stepped aside when she'd met Robert de Valicourt. Love at first sight, and they'd been married for nearly three centuries now.

He couldn't help but wonder . . .

Moments later, they were all sitting comfortably around the table, the men drinking frosty beers, Lilith sipping Chardonnay. They kept the conversation light and friendly.

Joe couldn't help but snicker. "Adam and Lilith? Like the first wife of the Biblical Adam? Sounds too good to be true." He coughed when he saw the glare Adam shot him. "So, how long've you known Adam?" Dawson asked her. "Oh, sometimes it feels like _forever_ ," she responded, lightly ribbing Adam at her left.

 _There's something familiar about her,_ Duncan mused. He had the strange feeling he'd met her before, but he couldn't remember where or when. There was something in the way she looked at him, though. It wasn't longing; it was more like he reminded her of someone she missed.

Dawson was intrigued. He couldn't recall seeing her in any of the Watchers' files. Who was she, really?

Richie could barely keep his eyes off of her. "So, uh, Lilith, what brings you to Seacouver?"

Across the table, she gave him a Mona Lisa-like grin. "I've been travelling the last few years, London, Paris, Athens, and I decided to stop by here and . . . see an old friend." She lightly patted Adam's hand. "Besides, I still have a house just outside of town."

"Oh, you should see that place!" Adam chimed in. "She's had it for decades. Great gardens and - Oh, don't worry, Lilith. Joe knows about us," he reassured when he noticed the furtive glance she shot to her right.

Joe inclined his head at the questioning look she gave him. She knew of the Watchers, but not much, so she and Joe engaged in a private little conversation.

With them having a question and answer session of their own, MacLeod took the opportunity to lean in and ask Adam who she was.

"I told you. She's Lilith, and she's an old friend of mine. She _is_ secretive, MacLeod, sort of like I am. But she's quite trustworthy. More so than I am," he admitted softly.

Richie couldn't help himself. Listening to Joe and Lilith's exchange, he decided he had to ask. "Have you . . . ever heard of Methos, Lilith? I mean, it's an interesting thought. Guy who's survived for five thousand years. What do you think of that?"

She appeared to ponder this for a moment, then opened her mouth to answer. "Well, Rich, it's an . . . an interesting thought, like you said. Um . . . I've never met the guy, so I can't say he _does_ exist, but I have no reason to think he doesn't, either." She gave a little shrug with one shoulder.

 _Rehearsed,_ Dawson thought. _Her reactions are rehearsed. What is she hiding?_


	2. Under the Radar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joe and Richie take different paths to try to unravel the mystery of Lilith.

Dawson had been perusing the Watchers’ files for three hours now and still couldn’t find a mention or a photo of this Lilith. If she was a friend of Methos’s, maybe she had found a way to stay under the radar, as well. She had seemed to know a bit about the Watchers, so it wasn’t too far of a leap to surmise that she knew of a way to keep herself hidden.

“Hey, Joe,” Adam called. “Got a minute?”

“Uh . . . yeah, sure, Adam.” Questions raced through his mind. Would he ask the world’s oldest man about this woman?

“I get the feeling Lilith’s in trouble. Have there been any reports of violence in the area?”

“Nothing out of the ordinary. Where was she last? I could check the records,” Dawson offered.

“Hmm, I don’t . . . actually . . . know . . . I tried asking her yesterday, but she dodged the question. She’s never kept anything from me. Not like this. I’m worried.” His eternally youthful face appeared to age drastically in a moment. The haunted look he shot Dawson sent shivers down his spine.

“Well, Adam, I’ve been checking the files for anything on her, and it looks like she’s kept herself pretty well hidden. Can you shed any light on this so I can help you help her?”

Adam shook his head. “She managed to stay out of your - the Watchers’ way since she died in Pompeii. I wasn’t there, but, when she finally clawed her way out of the rubble, she made her way to me. She’d lost quite a bit of her memory in the . . . destruction. To this day, she doesn’t remember being there. Hazard of old age, I suppose. Sorry I can’t be of more help, Joe.”

“She’s at least two thousand years old, then?”

Adam’s jaw clenched. He’d been able to avoid revealing his own true age to anyone, getting by with the claim that he’d taken his first head just five thousand years ago. He’d be damned if he told anyone how old Lilith was. “She’s . . . younger than I am,” he admitted. That much was not a lie.

“Older than two thousand . . . but younger than five,” Dawson nodded. He understood that the older man wanted to protect his friend. Girlfriend? Former lover? Wife? No, he said he’d never marry another Immortal . . . _Another_ Immortal. Those were his exact words, he mused, wondering how close the two were. ”Pompeii,” he said aloud. “It’s a place to start. Give me a few hours and I’ll let you know what I come up with tonight.”

“All right. I’ll be at the bar about six. I’m taking Lilith out for dinner tonight. Thanks for doing this, Joe.” Without another word, the really old guy gathered his black coat around himself and headed out into the grey winter afternoon.

* * *

Ten till six, Adam strolled into Joe’s bar and prepared himself for what he may have found and any questions he might have. He sensed the Buzz of another Immortal and glanced around the place, expecting to see Duncan there. What he saw left him speechless.

There, in a secluded corner booth, sat Lilith with Richie Ryan! And they appeared quite cozy together. The two glanced up, the grins still plastered to their faces. Lilith had, of course, recognised Methos’s Buzz, and Richie had known he was coming to pick his friend up for dinner.

Adam approached them slowly, intending to ask just what the hell was going on. He was intercepted by Dawson, who had a grim look on his face.

“I’m sorry, Adam. She’s a ghost. No record of her in our database.”

“Yeah, I figured it was a long shot. How long has Ryan been with her?” He tried to keep the heat out of his voice.

“Oh . . . maybe half hour. They look good together, don’t they?” he remarked, testing Adam’s reactions.

“If you say so. I think I’ll give them a little time before I steal her away for the night.”

“Sure. Hey, Tamika? Would you bring my friend here a shot of whiskey and a beer back? I’ll see you later, Adam. I have some paperwork that I can’t avoid anymore.” He began to head for his office, then turned to face the other man again. “If you can think of any of her aliases, I might be able to dig something up on her.”

“That won’t be much help, Joe. It would be like trying to find me in all that.”

Dawson had to admit he had a point. Adam, the first man . . . Lilith, the first woman, before Eve. It was worth a shot. He would take another crack at the records.

Ten minutes after Dawson walked away, Adam had downed his sixth beer and began staggering towards the happy couple in the corner. “L-lilith? Are you ready t- leave the boy s'we can go to dinner?”

“Adam? Are you drunk?” Lilith asked.

“Of course not! I only had six beers . . . not counting the shots of whiskey, (hic!),” he proclaimed as he sank into the booth.

“Rich, maybe I should drive him home?” Lilith gazed at him apologetically.

“Yeah, you’re right.” The disappointment was evident on his face even though he’d known he only had until Adam showed up. “I doubt he’ll be steady on his feet. We’ll have to help him hobble out to his car.”

Just as they were attempting to heft Adam out of the booth, Dawson came out of his office. “Good Lord! How much did he have to drink?” He knew the Immortal could handle his alcohol.

“He said he’d only had six beers . . . not counting the shots of whiskey,” Richie informed him. “We’re going to take him home. I’ll come back for my bike later, Joe.”

After a struggle to secure the older man into the backseat of his black Volvo, Lilith whispered something in his ear that Richie only barely caught. Met-hoph-phil-het? Was that what she’d said? He’d have to ask her about that later. For now, he would drive the car to Adam’s apartment and make sure he was safely in bed.

The ride across town was fairly silent. Once they arrived at their destination, Richie asked if he could take her out for breakfast.

“Oh . . . I’d like that. I . . . uh, I think I’m going to come back here tonight after I drive you back to the bar. You know, make sure he doesn’t go running out into traffic or diving off the balcony and killing himself only to revive in front of an audience . . . He’s sort of a crazy drunk.”

“Okay . . . or I could come back with you and keep you company?”

She hadn’t expected Richie to be so . . . understanding. And she was almost never surprised by anything. “Are - are you sure? I mean, I don’t want to ruin any plans you might’ve had . . .”

“No! I mean, I - I didn’t have any plans for tonight beyond having a drink with you. We’ll go, pick up my bike, grab some food, come back here. Maybe I’ll stop and pick up some movies, too. And, in the morning, we’ll all go out for breakfast.”

Lilith couldn’t help but smile. Had she ever been that young?


	3. Uneventful Events

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam has a heart to heart with Lilith; Richie asks Duncan to give Lilith a chance.
    
    
    The next few days were uneventful enough, if awkward between the trio. Dawson didn't want to know what had happened the night the world's oldest man had gotten jealous and drunk. MacLeod remained blissfully unaware of the entire incident.
    
    “Hey, Mac?” Richie asked him one morning at the dojo. “You haven’t really talked to Lilith since she’s been in town, have you?”
    
    “Uh, no, I haven’t. She’s an old friend of Methos’s, and he trusts her.”
    
    “But you don’t.”
    
    “I didn’t say that, Richie. I don’t know her well enough to say I do or I don’t trust her.”
    
    “Maybe that’s the problem," he stated blankly. "You don’t know her. At all. I’ve seen the looks you give her.”
    
    “I just . . . I feel like I’ve met her somewhere before! Only the memories are . . . blocked. Maybe I should get to know her . . . talk to her . . . a little.”
    
    “Well, I’m meeting her for lunch in an hour. You’re welcome to join us."
    
    MacLeod shrugged his broad shoulders. “Well, all right. But just for a bit. I wouldn’t want to intrude on your budding romance,” he teased the younger man.

* * *
    
    
    Methos - that is, Adam refused to be still. “I can’t understand why you keep going for the young ones!”
    
    “Do you think I planned this, Met-hoph-“
    
    He held up a hand to silence her mid-sentence. “Why him? Why right in front of me? Do you enjoy tormenting me like this?”
    
    “Tormenting you?” Lilith couldn’t believe she was hearing this. After all these years, centuries, millennia, he was bringing up the past? “You were the one who -“
    
    He cut her off again. He didn’t want to be reminded of his promise to her. It had been so many lifetimes ago, but the memory was still as vivid as though it had only been yesterday. And so was the pain. He stopped his pacing directly in front of her and ran a finger over her dark locks. “Lilith of the midnight hair,” he murmured wistfully.
    
    She closed her eyes in an effort to block out the old feelings, but it only made her see what had once been. They had made many promises to each other over the millennia. They had broken nearly all of them. Except for two. “M - Adam . . .” They were so close, just a slight reach and their lips could meet . . . They gasped simultaneously as they sensed the Buzz of another Immortal approaching. She pulled away from the almost-embrace and went to the door facing the small orchard at the side of her house. “Richie . . . and Duncan,” she called over her shoulder.
    
    “MacLeod? I’d, uh, I’d wanted to speak to him about something. Good thing he’s here, I suppose,” Adam muttered. 
    
    _So close . . . so close, and yet so far._


	4. Meeting in the Middle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Duncan, Richie, and Lilith have lunch together.

_So close . . . so close, and yet so far,_ Adam lamented silently. "Just tell me why you prefer the young ones."

She shot him a confused grin and sighed. "What would you prefer, Methos? That I find an older man? Where _ever_ would I find one of those?" she asked with a raised eyebrow and cheeky grin.

"Touché," he admitted, barely trying not to smile himself.

Outside, Richie was trying to convince MacLeod to give Lilith a chance.

"Richie, I said I'd talk to her, get to know her before deciding whether I trust her or not."

"Look, Mac, I know you're looking out for me and all, but remember, Lilith's not Kristin. Can you try to keep that in mind? For me?" He gazed at his mentor with pleading eyes.

MacLeod chuckled. "All right, Rich." He adjusted his collar while Richie knocked on the door.

It opened a moment later. "Hi, Rich," Lilith greeted warmly. "Hello, Duncan."

"Lilith," MacLeod responded cordially. "Adam, I hadn't realised you'd be here. Could I talk to you for a minute?" he asked trepidatiously.

Adam eyed the pair then nodded as he jerked his thumb over his shoulder. "We'll, uh, just be in the library if you need us."

Richie and Lilith nodded wordlessly.

"They could pass for high school kids," Adam mused aloud.

"Yeah. I wouldn't admit this to Richie, but they do make a nice couple. You're sure she can be trusted, right?" Duncan had to know.

"Do you trust me?" he asked.

Duncan pulled a face.

"You can trust Lilith far more than you can trust me. I told you, Mac, she's secretive, yes, but what she does say, you can believe. She's no Kristin, if that's what you're worried about."

"All right, then." He heaved a sigh of relief with the realisation that he didn't need to know much more about her and any past relationship she may have had with the old man. He found it amusing, though, that both Richie and Adam had contrasted her to Kristin. "Care to join us for lunch?"

He smiled but shook his head. "Thanks, anyway. I have to go see someone at a monastery outside of town."

"All right. See you later, then."

Meanwhile, Richie broke the silence as soon as they were alone. "Mac thinks he knows you from somewhere, but he doesn't know from where or when." She had said she wanted him to be direct with her.

Lilith sighed before speaking. "Yeah, I've noticed how he looks at me. He doesn't really trust me, does he? No, I guess that's understandable. All he knows is that I'm an old friend of Adam's. I want to tell you about it, Rich, but . . . now's not the time. Later? Tonight, after dinner?"

"Sure. But why wait? Why not after lunch?"

She took another deep breath before answering. "Maybe you're right. There's, uh, quite a bit to tell."

Adam and the Highlander re-entered then and cleared their throats. "Well, I suppose I'll be going," Adam announced. "I'll see you later, Lil," he promised with a kiss to her cheek.

"So!" MacLeod clapped his hands together after the door had closed. "Where are we going for lunch?"

"I was thinking of this little place not far from here," Richie responded. "Nothing fancy, more of a diner, really."

"Sounds good," Lilith remarked. "Just let me get my coat."

Lunch passed uneventfully. Duncan still couldn't place where he might have met Lilith, but the more he spoke to her, the more familiar she seemed. And when she mentioned a long-ago escapade with Connor, he perked up.

"Oh, you know Connor?" Duncan asked, pleasantly surprised.

She smiled wistfully. "Yes, but I haven't seen him in . . . oh . . . almost a decade. I'd really like to stop by his museum soon, though."

"I take it you know Rachel, as well."

"Of course. Ever since Connor -" she stopped herself, not willing to share this much with either man so soon. She sipped her iced tea before continuing. "Rachel was always a sweet girl, stubborn, of course. You'd almost swear she were a MacLeod," she added with a wink.

Richie chuckled at Duncan's grin.

"What would you expect when she was raised by Connor?" Duncan half-joked.

"True, true," she granted. "She has his fiery temper, too, even if she won't admit to it." Just then, her mobile phone rang. "Oh, shoot, I've been waiting for a call. Would you excuse me?" She stepped outside to avoid disturbing other patrons.

"Okay, Mac. Do you have any idea where you might have met her?" Richie was itching to know.

"Not really," he replied slowly. "No. But she knows Connor. Maybe I met her through him once."

"Hmm" was all he could say before their desserts were set in front of them.

"And I'll take the check," Duncan requested.

"Your sister already took care of it, hon," Allie informed him cheerily.

"My - oh. Right. Would you mind breaking a twenty, then?"

"Sure. Be right back." The skirt of her yellow uniform swished as she sauntered towards the register and back again.

"It's the eyes. You two have the same dark, brooding eyes," Richie mused aloud after Allie had walked away.

"Brooding," Duncan couldn't help but chuckle. It wasn't the first time in his four centuries that someone had called his eyes that. This, however, was the first time they had led someone to believe he was related to someone.

He would have to have a long talk with Lilith later.


	5. The Reason

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lilith begins opening up to Richie.
    
    
    When Lilith returned, Duncan mentioned that he wouldn't mind accompanying her to Connor's if she planned on going there the following month. She gave only a casual reply about seeing what they were each doing by then. They finished dessert with lighter talk about maintenance on her house and perhaps having dinner there a few days later. Both men offered to lend a hand with cleaning and repairs.  
    
    "Sounds like fun," Lilith admitted. "I'm afraid I've rather neglected the place lately. I'm sure there are a few leaks that will need mending."  
    
    Richie was quite pleased to see two of the most important people in his life finally getting along. After Duncan left on some business, Richie took Lilith on a leisurely scenic route.  
    
    Once they'd arrived back at her house, he gave her a look that all too clearly said _Spill it._  
    
    She held up her hands defensively. "All right, Rich. I'll tell you. Let's just go in the library and get comfortable. This is going to take a while and I know you'll have lots of questions for me." Her heartbeat resounded in her ears as she led the younger Immortal down the hall.  
    
    Richie situated himself on a fainting sofa near the small fireplace.  
    
    _'How appropriate,'_ Lilith mused. _'He may very well want to pass out when he hears what I'm about to tell him.'_  
    
    She took a deep breath to calm her nerves, then another. Richie sat there silently, patiently waiting for her to speak. "Oh, Richie, where do I begin?" she whispered.  
    
    "How about . . . your first death?" he supplied.  
    
    "My first . . ." Her brow furrowed as she tried desperately to recall the day she had died and risen for the first time. "It was . . . a very long time ago. So long that I'm not even sure when it was. My memory of those days is murky at best . . . a blank at worst."  
    
    "You don't remember your first death?"  
    
    She shook her head sadly. "There are gaps in my memory." What he wanted, she couldn't give him. Then she remembered something that might make a better place to begin. "You asked me, on the day we met, what I thought of the idea of Methos?"  
    
    "Yeah. Do you think he's just a legend, a myth? Or do you think he could be real? Do you think one of us could manage to survive for five thousand years?"  
    
    "Can I trust you, Richie?" she asked, gazing into his clear blue eyes. "I mean, _really_ trust you? Whatever I say to you here, today . . . You won't tell anyone about it, right?" She bit her lip.  
    
    He grasped her hands in his and kissed her fingertips. "Of course. Anything you tell me, I take with me to the grave."  
    
    She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "Yes, I believe an Immortal can survive for over five thousand years. And I know this because," she gulped. "I have. But anything before that . . . like I said, it becomes murky . . . and . . . foggy. It's like trying to remember a dream that slips away when you try to focus on it. But there are times it rushes back with agonising clarity."  
    
    "Did you ever meet Methos?" he couldn't resist asking.  
    
    "You promised you'd keep my secrets, right?"  
    
    He nodded his assent.  
    
    "Yes. I know him."  
    
    "You know that Adam's . . ." he blurted incredulously.  
    
    "Wait. _You_ know? Wow. He's not one to trust many people. His whole life, maybe a dozen he's trusted."  
    
    "Only a dozen?"  
    
    "I'm talking _real_ trust. With the important things."  
    
    He pursed his lips and made a soft sound in the back of his throat.  
    
    "Rich?" she whispered.  
    
    "Hmm?"  
    
    "Where do you think we come from?" She needed to know what he thought before she told him any more of her secrets. Secrets of the Ancient Ones.  
    
    "Come from? You mean, in an evolutionary sense?"  
    
    "Oh, quit teasing! I mean, we start as babies. So where do you think the babies that are destined to become Immortal come from?"  
    
    "Oh, I - I never really thought about that. I guess I just assumed we had mothers who died when we were born or soon after."  
    
    She raised an eyebrow at him and scrutinised his face. He was so close to the truth and didn't even realise it. "You're right. We are born to mothers who die giving us life."  
    
    "The mothers . . . how . . . why . . . what happens . . . that . . . " Richie's thoughts were racing. There was a wealth of information spanning at least five millennia sitting across from him, but where did he start with his questions?  
    
    "Calm down, Rich. I told you you'd have a lot of questions." She inhaled and rose to pace the room. After letting out a sigh, she spoke again. "All right. First things first. Immortals - babies that are destined to become Immortals - are born to Immortal parents. But the Immortals have to be of a certain age and near death."  
    
    "Near death?"  
    
    "Yes. I'll explain in a bit. Huh, I've never had to explain this to someone when I wasn't . . . You're only the second one I've told about all of this."  
    
    Richie beamed. "Really?"  
    
    "Yeah. And I'm telling you because I _want_ to tell you. There's _so much_ I want to tell you! Okay, near death. What I mean by that is . . . one of us might risk her life and wind up very weak, almost mortal, and need time to recover. During that . . . recovery time . . . she could get pregnant. But only if she's old enough. And he's Immortal, too. And in a similar state himself. It's . . . weirdly complicated, I know." She paused for a breath.  
    
    "How do you know about all this?" he murmured.  
    
    This was the moment she'd been dreading. "Because I've had children."  
    
    Richie was dumbfounded. This woman standing before him - the one who looked younger than he did - had children?  
    
    She nodded at his unasked question. "I've had only a few children over the centuries. I'm not even sure how many of them are still alive. I know . . . I know this is a lot for you to take in . . . Does . . . Do you . . ."  
    
    He crossed the room to stand in front of her. When he looked at her, he still saw the woman he had fallen in love with that day in Joe's bar. He caressed her face, brushing her hair back, then swept her up into an embrace that might've lasted forever.  
    
    "Richie? There's one more thing I need to tell you."  
    
    "Whatever it is, it doesn't matter."  
    
    "Yes, it does." She pulled back slightly. "See, the thing is . . . Parents . . . We recognise our children when we see them. Even if I haven't seen them since the day they were born."  
    
    "Oh, no. You're not about to tell me you're _my_ -" That thought was too much for him to bear.  
    
    "No! _No._ I'd never have let . . . I . . . What I was going to say . . . My son . . . Well, one of my sons does live in Seacouver."  
    
    He held up his hands in a silent plea for her not to say anymore yet. As he stared at her, he suddenly realised what had been bothering Duncan about her. "Duncan's your son, isn't he? It's your eyes. He has your eyes."  
    
    She swallowed the lump forming in her throat and nodded.  
    
    "Does Adam know?"  
    
    Again she nodded. "He - he was there . . . when Duncan was born . . . that winter solstice," she managed to squeak out.  
    
    "Who is his father?" The curiosity was killing him.  
    
    She shook her head again, a sorrowful expression on her face. "Don't ask me that, Richard. It's too long a story to tell you without explaining . . . There's too much to tell before I can tell you who his father is. But I will tell you this: Duncan has a twin sister."  
    
    He gaped at her, waiting for her to continue.  
    
    "She's the reason I'm here. I haven't told Adam this yet, but she's in trouble."


	6. Some Kind of Trouble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lilith, Richie, and Adam discuss the situation.
    
    
    "I haven't told Adam this yet, but she's in trouble."  
    
    "What kind of trouble?" Richie couldn't imagine what was going on, but if it had Lilith this worried, it couldn't be a small matter.  
    
    She heaved a weary sigh and pulled away from him. "There's this guy . . . She met him once, many years ago, and he acts like one dinner together constitutes a relationship. He refuses to give up, no matter what she says or does."  
    
    "But she barely knew he existed and doesn't want anything to do with him," he gathered.  
    
    She shook her head. "No. And he won't accept that. So he's been following her all over the world. The thing is, Rich, she's the spitting image of me. Lately, he's been following me instead. I've been wearing so much black lately to confuse him. That's why I came here, to Seacouver. I'm going to confront him."  
    
    "What? Alone?"  
    
    "Of course, alone. Those are the rules. One on one, right?" Her mouth was set in a grim line. "I can't let him hurt my daughter. Not again."  
    
    "Again? He's gotten to her before?"  
    
    "Yes. He caught up to her once, about forty years ago, to try to convince her that they belonged together. But when she told him she had recently gotten married, he was enraged." Her voice cracked and she had to take a few deep breaths before continuing. "He slammed her against the wall and screamed at her that she was meant to be his, that no one was going to get between them. When she told me about it a few weeks later, I swore to her that I would never let -" She couldn't stop the tears from flowing.  
    
    Richie pulled her into his arms and stroked her hair. "It'll be okay. What he did is inexcusable. And I'm going to do whatever I can to help you."  
    
    "Rich, I can't ask you to do that. I can't ask you to get involved in this."  
    
    "You didn't ask me," he reminded her. "And there's no way you could keep me from getting involved, anyway."

* * *
    
    
    Adam returned from the monastery late in the evening. When he arrived at Lilith's house, he let himself in with the key she had given him earlier. What he found didn't surprise him all that much. She was still in Richie's embrace.  
    
    But it was clear that she had been crying. _What could have happened that upset her?_ he wondered. He cleared his throat.  
    
    The two turned their heads in his direction. "Adam," Lilith greeted, wiping her eyes. "Did you talk to her? How is she?"  
    
    He nodded. "She looks good. I hadn't expected her to look so much like you, though. No wonder Walter mistook you for her. She's tired is all. Exhausted from running for so long. Staying there, behind all those walls, might be good for her. She might actually get some rest for a change."  
    
    "Knowing you have a crazy stalker who happens to be Immortal does not exactly make for restful nights," she quipped.  
    
    "Of course it doesn't. I just meant that she's safe there. She was going to go to bed right after I left. And _you_ should get some rest, too, young lady." He was concerned by the dark rings beneath her eyes and the way her body sagged against Richie's. If she didn't stop soon, he feared she might become an easy target. And with Walter so eager to make Heather his, he might just be willing to take Lilith as a substitute.  
    
    She narrowed her eyes at him. He was the only man remaining that could call her _young lady_  and know what he was saying. And she knew he was only thinking of her well-being, but she didn't appreciate the tone he took with her just because she was a little younger.  
    
    An hour later, the three were seated around the kitchen table, sipping coffee and going over what they knew.  
    
    "It's obvious he's not going to stop pursuing her," Adam stated plainly.  
    
    "Not after all these decades of chasing her," she concurred. "You're sure no one knows she's there? No one saw you?"  
    
    "No, no, I took a haphazard way to the monastery. And my path back here took so many twists and turns that I doubt anyone could have kept up. Except, perhaps, for Richie."  
    
    Richie scoffed at that. Adam had teased him before about how fast he liked to go.  
    
    But Lilith wasn't in a laughing mood. She rose and began pacing again. "Have you any idea where he is, Adam?"  
    
    "I checked the Watchers database, but the last record of him is in London two months ago. He seems to have dropped off the radar since then. I did leave a message for his Watcher about that, said I was just checking up so I could update records as needed."  
    
    "And?" Richie prompted.  
    
    "She hasn't gotten back to me yet. I expect it should be a couple of hours before she checks in. I couldn't make it sound urgent without raising suspicion."  
    
    "Of course," Lilith murmured. "I'm just worried that he managed to . . . I don't know, figure out that the woman he's been following is not Heather. Or that he's discovered where she is now."  She raked her fingers through her hair. "I have to stop him."  
    
    "Well, you're not doing it alone," Adam and Richie promised in unison.


	7. Not Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam receives news. Lilith goes for a brisk morning jog with Duncan.
    
    
    "Well, you're not doing it alone," Adam and Richie promised in unison.  
    
    She didn't have the strength to tell them it wasn't their fight. After all these months of running, she was exhausted. Maybe Adam had been right. She could use some sleep. Things would be clearer in the morning; she'd be refreshed.  
    
    Then she could plan properly.

* * *
    
    
    Richie refused to leave her side, even while she slept. Adam took a bedroom just down the hall from them. Knowing that there was an alarm system in place let them sleep a little easier, but all three of them were on edge with the thought that there was a crazed stalker who might be coming for Lilith.  
    
    And Lilith felt trapped in a nightmare where Walter found Heather and forced her into a marriage she could never escape.  
    
    Richie woke her when her silent screams and constant turning made it clear that she was having a nightmare. She stared at him, unblinking, for several minutes before she realised where she was.  
    
    "Richard?" she whispered.  
    
    "Shh, it's okay. I'm here. You're safe." He kept repeating reassuring words until she drifted back to sleep.

* * *
    
    
    In the morning, Lilith appeared to be in better spirits. She even prepared quite a spread for her two guests. Her mood was brightened when Adam informed her that Walter Kapp was just a few hours north of them, at an auction.  
    
    "Yes. It seems he'd left London in a hurry and went underground. Meryl - that's his Watcher - just heard a couple of days ago that he was in the area but couldn't get a flight until this morning. There's someone else keeping an eye on him for now."  
    
    She nodded. He was so near. Soon, the threat would be over.

* * *
    
    
    "Hello, Duncan," she greeted when he reached her side. "Out for a morning jog, too, I see."  
    
    He grinned back at her. "Nothing like a brisk run in the cool air to get the blood flowing."  
    
    "Aye, spoken like a Scotsman, lad."  
    
    "Ah, you've lived in Scotland, then?" he asked, pleasantly surprised.  
    
    "For a few years. It was a long time ago." She found that she couldn't drop the brogue as easily as she'd picked it back up. "But the memories stay with me always."  
    
    "Aye," he agreed as he kept astride of her. "Tis beautiful this time o' year. Up in the Highlands, with the winds . . ." His voice trailed off when he caught the far-off look in her eyes. "Are you all right?" He stopped in front of her to get a better look at her.  
    
    "Yes, yes, of course. I just . . . got lost in a happy memory." She hoped the exertion and the crisp air would prove a good enough reason for why it was so difficult for her to catch her breath.  
    
    "Here, sit. I'll bring you a hot chocolate. Mocha?"  
    
    "My favourite. Thank you." She was glad they'd wound up near a café. She hadn't bothered to plan her route when she'd left her house.  
    
    "So, I talked to Connor last night," Duncan remarked when he returned.  
    
    "You did?" she tried to hide her grin behind the steaming cup he had handed her.  
    
    He cleared his throat. "Yes. He sounded a little too pleased to know you were in town."  
    
    She hummed a neutral response as she sipped the hot liquid.  
    
    "I mentioned that you've been spending time with Richie, too. He sounded almost . . . jealous."  He paused, waiting for her to refute his suspicions.  
    
    She stared at her shoes. This was not how she wanted to tell him. She kept her face carefully blank. "Why would he sound jealous?"  
    
    "You tell me."  
    
    She shrugged, then lifted her gaze to a flock of birds passing by in the sky above them. "I can't imagine. I've never known Connor to be jealous."  
    
    "If you say so."  
    
    "You sound just like your father," she mumbled.  
    
    "You - you knew my father?" he breathed. It would be nice to know there was someone else who remembered Ian MacLeod.  
    
    She pursed her lips. _Damn. He heard that. But he thinks I mean the man who raised him._ "Yes, Duncan. For a few months. They were very kind to me at a time when I needed it." _Please don't ask me about it._  
    
    "Aye, they were kind. Hospitable to any who needed help." His eyes misted as he recalled his childhood and being groomed to become the chieftain.  
    
    "You take so well after your father, Duncan MacLeod. I can see all his best, and your mother's, in you." Her own eyes misted as she recalled that winter solstice so long ago, when she went by another name . . .  
    
    _A scream of exhaustion escaped her lips as the midwife patted her knee and told her to get ready to push again. Eilidh sobbed. "I don't think I can do this."_  
     _"Oh, nonsense, there. You're doin' just fine, Eilidh. Your baby'll be along and you'll forget ya ever felt this way." Joan smiled encouragingly._  
     _But Eilidh knew better. She would die, and her child would be raised by another. She was mildly comforted in knowing that those in the Clan MacLeod were good people. This child would surely grow up loved and -_  
     _Another scream tore from her as she felt her body opening._  
     _"Push, my lady, push," Joan encouraged again. "I can see the head."_  
     _The soon-to-be mother tilted her head back and whispered in Methos's ear. He merely nodded as he rubbed her back. The sounds of battle rang outside their hovel. He would have been there had his friend not required assistance. He knew what was coming, that he would have to calm the midwife and ensure the safety of the newborn._  
     _A cry brought him back to the present moment._  
     _"It's a boy! You have a fine, healthy son!" Joan held him up triumphantly. "He's perfect. Now, get ready. There's another on the way."_  
     _Eilidh cast a worried glance up at Methos. "Twins. They'll have to be separated for their protection," she murmured so only he could hear._  
     _He nodded grimly. The tribe he had been staying with was part of the Clan MacLeod, and he knew who would be willing, would welcome a new baby. But it pained him to know that he was going to have to watch her die._  
    
    A baby's wail brought Lilith back to the present.  
    
    "Do I?" Duncan asked. "I wonder if I have anything of the woman who bore me."  
    
    Lilith smiled uneasily. "I'm sure you do. Wh-whoever she was, she must have known, had some idea that you'd be taken to the clan chieftain when she died."  
    
    "You think she knew was dying?" He hadn't considered that possibility.  
    
    She opened her mouth as though to speak, then thought better of it. This was not the place to tell him.
    


	8. Taking a Swing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam asks Richie for a favor. Duncan and Lilith have a friendly sparring session.

While Lilith was out jogging with Duncan, Richie was enjoying the variety of breakfast foods she'd prepared. Waffles, sausage links, eggs, bacon, assorted muffins, fresh coffee . . .

"She's quite the cook, don't you think?" Adam asked between bites of syrup-laden waffle. This was definitely better than eating on Adam Pierson's salary.

"Mmm, great," he agreed as he reached for another strip of bacon and a muffin. He couldn't remember the last time he'd eaten like this! He was going to have an even longer workout later to make up for it.

After several minutes of silence, the older man rose to refill his coffee mug. Once he sat back down, he declared, "There's something I have to tell you, something I need to ask of you."

Richie set his fork down and looked across the table.

He had been thinking about this ever since he'd gotten off the phone with Meryl. He knew Richie wanted to help her take care of the problem, but how would he feel about this? "Walter Kapp is not up north. He's just outside of town. Lilith can't know about this, but I'm going after him. I need you to keep her occupied this afternoon."

"Why? Why do you get to take care of this? You can't really expect me to sit on the sidelines."

Adam's jaw tensed. How much could he say? How much had she told him? "Because I made a promise to her long before Heather was even born."

"So that's it. You've known her longer, so you get to be the hero."

"Hero? Hardly. I'm sparing you her anger," he replied flatly. "If you go after Walter Kapp, she won't be happy about it, no matter how you try to explain your actions. Trust me when I say that it's better she hate me for a few years than you."

Richie shut his eyes and rubbed his temples, trying to process what he'd just heard. "She'll still be mad at me for knowing about this and not telling her."

"You're young; she'll forgive you this. It will be far easier for her to blame me for manipulating you into this than it would be for her to think you thought she couldn't handle herself. I see the way her face lights up with you. Besides," he added with a shrug. "She's hated me before. Plenty of times, actually. Eventually, she'll find a way to forgive me. We have too long a history to stay enemies forever."

Richie could only glower at him when he couldn't come up with a way to counter his reasoning.

* * *

After an invigorating second half to their jog, Duncan insisted on taking Lilith to the dojo. Showing her his home and where he exercised felt only natural. Now that he'd really talked to her, without Richie to scrutinise every word they exchanged, he was far more at ease with her and knew she was more honest than he could have believed before that day.

Sparring with her, seeing how she moved, was an interesting experience. Her technique was reminiscent of Adam's, but her smaller size meant she could dodge a swing of a sword more easily. Her attacks were more graceful, less rushed.

She obviously handled herself well, but he thought she might be holding something back. He hadn't slashed her, nor had she wounded him, though they'd each had ample opportunity to do so. Was it simply that she was that experienced that she could swing a sword at him without harming him?

He lunged forward; she sidestepped him. He swung his blade at her feet; she jumped over him.

Then, she really surprised him. She executed a manoeuvre that could have taken down the Kurgan, at least for a moment, which, where one's head was concerned, was sometimes all that was really needed.

Duncan lay on his back, stunned. He no longer had any doubts as to how she'd managed to survive for however long she had.

After nearly another hour of swordplay, they both tensed at the approach of another Immortal. He watched her curiously as she narrowed her eyes; it was like watching Adam sniff the air that day she'd arrived.

"Anyone you know?" he asked, only half-joking.

She glanced over at him and nearly imperceptibly shook her head. But, when she turned around and saw who was at the door, her eyes widened and her heart leapt into her throat. "You!" she hissed. _What the hell is Kapp doing here? How did he find his way here so quickly?_

"Ah, Heather," his annoyingly posh accent flowed from his lips. "Send this young man away lest I find it necessary to thrash him." His emerald eyes glimmered with anticipation.

"Not a chance, Walter. There's no way I'd be alone in a room with you. Not after what you tried to do last time." Lilith reminded herself to keep her anger in check. She'd have to be calm and collected to face him.

Duncan, shirtless and covered in a sheen of sweat, approached the lignite-haired man in the cashmere coat. "I am Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod. What business have you with the lady?"

Walter let out a scoff. "That is between her and me and no one else." His smile was as enticing as a viper's. "Step aside, boy. No one is going to come between us again, Heather."

"Then don't you think you should be talking to me?" an icy voice called from behind him.


	9. Double Jeopardy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The stalker makes his move.

"Then don't you think you should be talking to me?" Heather had managed to sneak in, unnoticed, behind Walter.

Duncan's head darted briefly between the two women, practically identical save for those tiny differences that only the keenest eyes would notice. _Twins? I didn't think that ever happened with Immortals._

Walter was dumbfounded. "Wh- How . . . How are there _two_ of you? That's not possible. I sense didn't even behind you me. Can how be this? Two you of how exist can?" He was so shocked that he couldn't manage to put together a coherent sentence. All his elocution lessons were completely forgotten.

Heather smirked. She'd finally have the opportunity to be rid of this nightmare. Even if she didn't take his head, surely he'd finally realise that she would never be his. And, if he took her head, there was someone there to avenge her. Either way, this would be over, once and for all.

Duncan's eyes remained on the well-dressed man as he broke the awkward silence. "Heather, who is this man to you?"

"Nothing. He keeps going on about how it's his _destiny_ to be by my side," she responded derisively. "I've told him I want nothing to do with him, but he continues to try to insert himself into my life."

"You _will_ leave the lady alone, or you'll have me to contend with," Duncan declared, his blade still pointed in Walter's direction.

"Over you anywhere be imagine not near will mine that do this is! Return will to I life your soon," he sputtered.

The other three glanced at each other in confusion. Walter merely shook his head and began walking away.

"Walter," Lilith called out suddenly. She knew all too well that Immortal minds were far more stubborn. There was no way a few words had so easily convinced him to walk away.

He turned slowly. He couldn't be sure if this was his beloved Heather or the other one. "Yes?"

"This _is_ over. If I ever see you near me or her, or anyone we care about, again, I _will_ take your head.

He was upon her before any of them could react. He had her against a wall, completely defenceless.

"Why?" he sobbed. "Why can't you see you were meant for me? Why do you run from me?" He had to hear from her own lips why she refused him so he could convince her otherwise.

"Because you're pathetic," she hissed so only he could hear. "Look at yourself, begging, _whining_ this way. And you think you're worthy of my attention. Of my _love_." An idea struck her. "Prove it."

"What?" He glared at her.

"Prove yourself and I'll go with you. Face me in a fair fight. If I win, this is over, completely and utterly over. If _you_ win, I will stay with you."

Really? Even if that means marrying me? You'll give yourself to me every night, and, sometimes, right after lunch?"

She nearly choked on her disgust at the prospect of his hands on her. "Fine."

"Very well." He released her slowly. "I'll give you a few moments to prepare yourself," he offered as he began removing his coat and tie.

Heather ran over to her mother. "Let me face him. This is my fight, my problem to deal with.

"No, absolutely not. He knows your fighting style from watching you so much."

"He knows yours, too, if he's been watching you all this time," Duncan reminded her.

She smiled at him. "You think that was my real fighting style? My only style? You spar with me once and you think you know me? Trust me, it's better I face him. And, if he wins . . ."

"I'll take his head," Duncan promised.

Lilith shook her head. "If he wins, I have to marry him."

Heather blanched. "B-b-b-but you can't! You know what he's like!"

"If it means keeping you safe from him, there's nothing I won't do. Duncan, if I lose today, I'll need you to explain this to Richard. He'll understand why I did it, I hope, but someone's going to have to calm him down. And stop Adam from doing anything drastic." She turned to face her opponent. "I'm ready, Walter."

"Oh, it sounds so delicious to hear you say my name that way," he moaned as he lifted his sword in a salute.

 _Ugh, is this foreplay to him?_ Lilith shuddered.

They traded blows for several minutes before Walter gained the upper hand. He spun her around so her back was pressed against him.

"It looks like you're going to be mine, my sweet," he murmured into her ear.

"There are a couple of things you should know first," she murmured back. She reached behind her to grasp the dagger she had noticed hanging from his belt.

"Oh, what's that? How much I'm going to enjoy our wedding night? Or how much _you're_ going to enjoy it?"

She stabbed him in the side. He gasped in shock. It was hardly a fatal wound, even for a mortal, but it was enough to get him to release her. She glowered at him as he sank down to one knee and pulled the small blade from his body. It didn't take long for the opening to seal itself again.

"You're going to pay for that, my dear," he hissed. "But, don't worry; my punishments come with much pleasure." His arrogance made him clumsy, but he only stumbled once in his attack. _What's different about her? Where did she learn to fight like this?_

"The first thing you should know, Walter, is that there is much about me you don't know. You don't know where I learned to handle a sword. You don't know my favourite book or why I cherish it. You don't know where my homeland is."

"But I _do_ know," he insisted, his breathing more laboured. "You grew up in the Highlands of Scotland. Your favourite book is a collection of Chekov's stories because it reminds you of your time in Nizhni-Novgorod."

"I spent my childhood in Egypt, before the time of the Pharaohs," she corrected. She dealt him a kick to the midsection, then a jab to the side of his shin. "Another thing you should know about me is that I don't play fair with those who try to cheat me." She ran her sword through his chest.

He stared up at her in wonder. "What? You? Egypt? Believe I can't this. Knew I nothing? I can't believe I've been beaten by a woman. But I'll stay true to my word; I'll never come near you again."

"The last thing you should know, Walter, is that I'm not Heather," she informed him before slicing his head cleanly from his neck. 

The Quickening enveloped her, sending shockwaves throughout her body. A thunderstorm raged through the skies of Seacouver. Images of the women killed by the man last known as Walter Kapp flashed before Lilith's eyes. She lost count of how many he had stalked over the centuries, but it stopped here. He would never have the opportunity to hunt another woman.


	10. As Good a Time as Any

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some questions are answered at long last.
    
    
    _In the office of the dojo, several minutes later_  
    
    "I just don't understand how the two of you can be perfectly identical, and both Immortal, at that, but not twins," Duncan repeated. He poured three glasses of Scotch and handed two of them off before readjusting the collar of the shirt he'd thrown on. "Yet you _are_ related? _Blood_ related?"  
    
    Lilith sat, stone faced, still reeling from the effects of the Quickening. Heather stood silently to the side, amazed that she no longer had to worry about a stalker chasing her. She'd never imagined that it might end this way.  
    
    "A-all right. I'll try to explain this as best I can, but, before I do, the two of you should be introduced properly. Heather Armstrong of the Clan MacLeod, I'd like you to meet Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod."  
    
    "Wait. Dun- Duncan? As in, _Duncan_ Duncan?!" Heather whispered. _I'm finally meeting the younger Highlander!_  
    
    "On the winter solstice in 1592, in Glenfinnan, during the heat of battle, a woman who would not live to raise her own children gave birth," Lilith murmured. She tilted her head to regard her son. "Twins, only the clan never knew. The midwife took the boy to the clan chieftain, but the girl was taken to another family, separated to protect them.  
    
    "Twins?" Duncan breathed. "A boy and a girl?" His head was spinning. "I was a foundling. Born on the winter sol- The midwife told my father that . . . that the woman's . . . my birth mother's eyes glowed red as a demon's as she bore me." He lifted his eyes to meet Lilith's. "It was you, wasn't it?"  
    
    She closed her eyes and nodded.  
    
    "Didn't you want me? _Us?_ " he asked, terrified of what her answer would be.  
    
    "Of course I wanted you! When I realised I was pregnant, I . . . I couldn't have been happier. Neither could your father. But I knew that the - I was already weak. Labour was going to kill me, as it had done before, and there was the very real chance that I might not have revived. But I knew you wo-" Her voice broke.  
    
    Heather chimed in. "She knew we'd each be well cared for. An old friend of hers swore to her he'd make sure we each went to good families."  
    
    Duncan looked at his sister quizzically. It was so strange to him to realise that he had family, blood relations, right in front of him.  
    
    "Yes, she told me about this," Heather answered his unspoken question. "It's a lot to take in, I know. You have to . . . get used to the idea that some Immortals can have children. Then it gets easier to accept that the woman in front of us is our mother. But . . . you knew it when you first met her, didn't you? That you knew her from somewhere?"  
    
    Duncan smiled at her comment. "Of course. I knew there was something familiar about your face, the way you looked at me. And it bothered me that I couldn't remember where or when I'd met you before. But it all makes sense now. Well, maybe not all of it."  
    
    "No, there are some things that might never make sense. Like, why are some of us able to bear children while others can't? Why must we be doomed not to be able to raise our own children?" Lilith shook her head for what felt like the hundredth time that day. "There are some questions that just don't have answers."  
    
    "I have some questions that only you will be able to answer. Is Lilith your real name? Where did you grow up? Who is my father? Things like that." Duncan crossed his arms and waited.  
    
    Lilith took a deep breath and cleared her throat before replying. "I have gone by many names; the earliest, the one given me by my parents, is Hetil-ur-tuk. I was born near what would soon be the western portion of Sumer and would later become part of Egypt. As for where I grew up, we were travellers; my family went from port to port as merchants. Whether the people who raised me were actually my birth parents, I'll never know, but they loved me beyond words and gave me the best that they could. We were quite happy, and that's all that mattered. Things were so different then, a completely different world in those days, simpler and so beautiful. By the time I met your father . . . Well, the centuries have a way of changing us, as you both know."  
    
    "Just how old are you, Mother?" Duncan asked softly.  
    
    She let the word wash over her. "The calender has changed so many times since my youth. And there are gaps in my memory, chunks of my life that are lost to me. For the time being, that is. The nearest I've been able to . . . determine, based on what I _do_ remember, and some help from historians and my journals is  . . . I'm younger than Methos, but I'm a bit over five thousand years old."  
    
    "Methos? Methos is a myth we tell -" He stopped mid-sentence. "How did you know that I already knew who he really is?"  
    
    She grinned. "Richard. If Adam trusted him enough to tell him that, I knew you had to know, as well."  
    
    Duncan nodded. It was all making more sense. There was still one thing, one tidbit of information he absolutely had to know. "What about my - our father? Who is he?" _I have a sister. A twin sister,_ he reminded himself.  
    
    Lilith swallowed the lump that started forming in her throat. "Think about it for a minute. You don't need me to tell you what you already know."  
    
    He thought back over his life, over all the times he wished he'd known where he came from. Memories rushed back, faces of old friends, nights spent dancing, all the fun he'd had and most -  
    
    "And most of the good women," Duncan laughed. "That would mean I really _am_ Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod. Is that why he sought me out?"  
    
    "He'd . . . received word of the battle and what happened afterwards. It was a bit similar to the first time Heather encountered me."  
    
    He walked over to Heather to embrace her. "My wee baby sister."  
    
    "Only by five minutes, big brother!" she admonished with a wink. "What's five minutes in four hundred years?"  
    
    "Yes, you're right. Doesn't change the fact that I'm older. Wait, wait," he turned back to face, quite possibly, the oldest surviving woman. "You had said . . . Labour would kill you as it had done before. Does that mean you have other children?"  
    
    The pair gazed at her expectantly.  
    
    "A few more, yes, all older than the two of you. And I should really let Adam and Richie know what's happened." She tensed a half-second before her offspring. "And it seems now might be as good a time as any for that."

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published on FFN in 2012 (as Malady Pond du LesHeuresRoses) with some minor differences in details and a little fudging of canon


End file.
